The Sword and His Protector
by xxSabaku.No.Picaxx
Summary: Severus Snape was never Harry's Potions Professor, instead he's been raised by a society that only comes forth during time of war. And they've sent him to Hogwarts to help Harry fight Voldemort, whose gotten stronger than we've ever seen.


The Sword and His Protector

Warning: This is the only warning I'll post in regards to this story being slash HP/SS (that being said, if you don't like it, don't read it). The Sword and His Protector will be focusing more on the action and romantic aspects of this pairing than just sex. For the M rating, it's more centered on the violence, language, etc. rather than graphic smut.

In this particular story, Snape was never Harry's Potions Professor, so Harry's experiences with Voldemort have been harsher without Snape to act as a buffer and he's been forced to grow up faster. Snape's backstory will be revealed throughout the story. Some basic HP book events are still the same but details have been altered. Concepts of Horcuexes are not used.

Enjoy.

**Chapter One: Innocent Deception**

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, a well-known area in the Wizarding World, was brought to life by students and families alike crowding the platform, moving enmasse to a rhythm that only they could understand. Voices overlapped, shouts filled the air, luggage rolled from one place to another and embraces were exchanged. Though the atmosphere was lively, a subtle tension lurked in the air, hardly noticeable except to a fair few.

One such person stood in the shadows that threatened to swallow him. Obsidian eyes were shadowed by a darker than black robe, scrutinized the crowd, collecting what information he could before he made his presence known.

Where it not for whispers of Voldemort's supposed reemergence floating around he would not be here, clenching his jaws in slight annoyance. He-Who-Must-not-be-Named complicated matters greatly, now he would have to go about his plans without the levity he previously thought he had. Everyone would be suspicious of anyone taking about anything pertaining to the Dark Lord, as rumors of war began. With the recent accusations being hinted at, talks of sides took place. Would people gather behind the light or the dark? This was the underlying friction that the attentive would pick up on.

The figure saw known 'Dark' families being avoided among the chaos. Families infamous for following the Dark Lord during his reign of terror sixteen years ago. The Malfoys stood with a proud lift of their chin held a small court with The Parkinson's, Cabbes, and Goyles. For as much as they families were avoided, they still held the power to capture people's attention. They were after all some of the most prominent and prestigious names in politics, wealth, and had libraries full of magic from the old. Known Death Eaters walking amongst the platform, but could it be proven? It was one thing to known, another to have undeniable evidence that could not be overlooked by political manipulations or numerous donations. They made up one end of the spectrum, supporters of the French named Dark Lord.

On the other end were supporters of the light, the illustrious red-headed Weasleys and their old wizard Dumbledore. They had no power on official paper but unofficial paper? The Weasleys had magical power, and their reach extended farther than expected. Connections rooted from their pureblood heritage, and their acquaintances branched out from their participations in opposition of the Dark. Their influence increased when it came to light they were Harry Potter's surrogate family. Though not outright avoided by people they were watched as well... but they weren't here.

No flaming red hair could be seen anywhere and the train was departing in less than fifteen minutes. Sighing in resigned irritation the cloaked figure stepped into the light.

The removal of his hood revealed a pallid young man of seventeen who stood at a proud height of 5'10". His large hooked nose coupled with a set of dark intelligent eyes rested above thin lips. Black oily hair gently brushed his thin shoulders. His cold persona held a certain confidence that simultaneous attracted and repelled people. He was a walking enigma.

Ignoring the stares and murmurs directed towards his person, the young man boarded the train. Taking pains to touch no one, he searched for an empty compartment to find all of them taken. Cursing himself for wasting too much time on the platform and the Weasleys for not arriving yet, the young man knocked on the only compartment with a single passenger who was hidden behind a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Come in," the passenger called out as the train began its departure.

The pale young man entered, inspecting the other boy's appearance. He controlled a medium build with tanned skin. A mane of wavy brown hair paired with brown eyes and a button nose were the basics of the boy's facial features. Hideous square eye frames completed the passenger. Nothing special there, thought the pale skinned teen. Someone who could blend in anywhere and were it not for the wooden cane propped between his leg and the window, he would be utterly overlooked.

"May I join you?" The young man inquired, his eyes passing over a moving picture of Cornelius Fudge.

"Sure." The passenger set the paper down as he took in the young man's form while he sat. "Are you... new to Hogwarts?"

"Obviously," The young man answered as made himself comfortable for the long trip.

Tanned skin flushed with color and a hand with the words _I must not tell lies_ imbedded in the skin, nervously flattened his hair. "Right," the passenger gave a weak laugh and tried again. "I'm Har..." He coughed. "Harold Evans."

"Severus Snape." Snape replied easily.

Evans inclined his head and grinned. "A pleasure to meet you Mr. Snape."

"A pleasure to meet you Mr. Evans." Snape mocked as he discreetly studied Evans.

Evans wore ill-fitting robes that were secondhand if they frayed edges were anything to go by. Black boots that were more practical than fashionable covered his feet, and his cane was plain compared to what was usually seen in the Wizarding World. With the way the boy was sitting, it was difficult to discern which leg needed the support. Two rings adorned his right hand; one was a plain bronze ring, and the other had a series of connected figure eights circling the entire band, with a small dot in the middle of each loop. Significant rings? Or just jewelry?

"That's very distracting." A faint smile tugged at Evans lips, contrasting greatly with the sharpness found in his brown eyes.

So that's how it is. Giving a sardonic smile, Snape checked his urge to leave as he remembered his task. "Apologies, the article caught my eye."

Amusement rolled off of Evans. "Oh. How so?"

Snape glanced at the paper again, thoughts racing through his mind. Cornelius Fudge was giving a passionate speech and judging from the headline; **Boy-Who-Lives Running From Responsibilities, Where Is He**, it was about Harry Potter. Hmmm... insulting the so-called savior was one avenue to employ. Adding in people's responses and they usually let you know their perceptions in some way. "Harry Potter." Snape finally answered.

Evans frowned. "What about him?"

"Did he really disappear? Or is he as the paper claims, running away?" Snape gestured to the paper.

"He's only been gone during the summer." Evans stated flatly. "He was on the train when everyone left Hogwarts and he always taken the train for going back to Hogwarts."

At that moment some girls passed by, loudly discussing the lack of Potter and his friends anywhere on the train.

Snape raised his eyebrow at Evans.

"Unless those girls looked in every compartment they really wouldn't know." Evans defended. "Seeing as they just bypassed us, I wouldn't rely on them too much. It's not like he has a choice anyway."

It was mandatory to ride the train to Hogwarts unless there was a special reason not to do so. Smarter than he looks, Snape thought, able to argue his points without alienating the person he talks to. Demonstrates his back bone, Snape thought fleetingly. He also seems to be taking this personally. Snape decided to take this -whatever this was- as far as he dared. "Are you part of the Potter fan club?"

"No, are you?" Evans shot back.

So much for able to argue. "I have yet to make his aquaintance."

"Then why are you so intent on belittling him." Evans fingertips brushed at his scarred hand in an unconscious manner.

That was an interesting leap in conversation. "Belittling him? I'm not belittling him," Snape stated. "I'm just not overestimating him."

Evans looked mad. "How am I_ possibility _overestimating him?"

"Think!" Snape snapped. "Your entire country believes that Harry Potter alone can defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters?"

"You talk like Voldemort's still alive." Evans avoided any ridiculous movements when he said the Dark Lord's name.

Snape gave him a dumb-founded look. "You're telling me that you don't believe Voldemort is back, when he's attacked Potter year after year."

"Point taken." Evans said softly before he changed his tone. "And just because I live here doesn't mean I agree with everything everyone else does." Bulky frames were pushed up.

"You don't?" Snape smiled in an artificial way. "So who will?"

"Who will what?"

"Who will defeat The Dark Lord and company." Snape said in an exasperated way.

"Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore?" Snape interrupted, noting Evans frustration. "That's what the people thought during the first war and looked what happened."

"It's not the same as last thing."

Snape threw Evans own inquiry back at him. "Oh? How so?"

Evans looked surprised then huffed in amusement, recognizing his words. The hostility of the exchange dissipated before the banter was picked up again. "So you think Harry Potter's going to take care of it."

Thin lips fought the urge smirk. Evans was picking at him too it seemed, but putting words in Snape's mouth was not the way to go. "I can't exactly give an opinion when you've stated it for me." Snape rolled his eyes at Evans fake confusion. "People know what happened in the past and why the last war happened the way it did, as experts have claimed time and time again. Just look at their analysis, it's practically a guide on what not to do and what to do better."

"It's not that simple." Evans said, scratching his hair before patting it back down, paying special attention to the center of his forehead.

"Sure it is."

"But it's not. What you're talking about, not everyone can do. At least not effectively. It's one thing to plan, it's another to actually do, and all the practice in the world can't prepare people for an actual fight."

"Very true." Snape said mysteriously, pretending he couldn't see the way Evans eyes narrowed. "It's not like Fudge is helping either."

"Spare me the man." Evans groaned, accepting Snape's change in subject. "It's the upcoming elections" Evans continued, "He doesn't have the slightest clue about handling this other than blaming m-" Evans coughed again, "-Harry Potter and Dumbledore."

"Cold?" Snape inquired mildly, internally smirking at Evans glare.

"Of sorts."

"The man does like his power." Snape continued, as though the small joke hadn't happened. "I'm surprised he has the backing he does."

"Hmmm. Not really." Evans said quietly as he gazed at Fudge's picture.

Snape waited for Evans to expound upon his answer but Evans picked up his discarded paper and began reading again.

Accepting the not so subtle hint, Snape leaned back, letting his thoughts flow freely. Though it was uncertain if Voldemort was back, people were beginning to lean toward accepting he was back, but took for granted Potter would always be there to save them.

Snape was too practical for that. Not that it was too surprising; his upbringing was unique to say the least. The... people he surrounded himself with had always said Voldemort would return and readied themselves in as many areas as they could, teaching Snape everything they knew. But a group is only as good as their leader and in this case, their Alexander the Great was Harry Potter. Therein laid the wrinkle Snape had to smooth out before he could act as needed.

Ever since Potter had attended Hogwarts, Voldemort had made an attempt on his life every year and every time Potter rose to the occasion, not without taking some heavy hits of course but still managing to outwit the Dark Lord. Three years ago however, Voldemort managed to kill a boy in front of Potter causing a drastic chain reaction in Potters activities.

That very summer, Potter made it a goal to emancipate himself from his muggle relatives and Dumbledore's undertaking, and he succeeded. It was not public knowledge. Snape only knew because he'd put years of work into this particular source as well as negotiating information for information, promising very rare favors alongside taking tight knit oaths to ensure security. Quite dangerous but he needed the information. They, the contacts, provided as many details as possible but some things remained unclear, so the society remained on the sidelines, watching and waiting.

Then some killings took place during the summer. Killings reminiscent of Voldemort's old ways, and given the adamant declarations Potter gave, it was not stupid to assume Voldemort disappeared to an unknown safe house while he'd made arrangements for the upcoming war. Once this reached the society, they knew they could no longer stand idly by. Snape clenched his jaw, it was-

Loud coughing interrupted him. Snape looked to find Evans coughing into a red handkerchief with the letters HP in one of the corners, catching the slight darkening of fabric and the faint smell of blood in the air. Evans straightened up with a tired smile, hiding the cloth and began a conversation on an overview on the defense book they'd bought for the semester.

It turned into a lively debate on what spells were actually helpful in a duel, with Evans favoring Expelliarimus, and Snape arguing in favor of spells that would send people crashing. It was enough to keep Snape on his toes as he balanced between befriending this boy and uncovering relevant data.

"Challenge you to a game of Wizard's Chess." Evans said.

After talking to the kid, and finding out he was rather intelligent, Snape thought that intelligence would transfer to the chessboard. How very wrong he was.

Evans was horrible and chess brought out his habit of running his hand through his hair then flattening it out. Then Evans would sometimes rub the words on his hands while he considered his next move, switching whenever he caught himself doing either gesture. This went on until a lady with a trolley full of sweets came by and Evans bought chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties while Snape bought nothing. Snape declined his offers of sweets despite Evans numerous attempts to share.

Their conversation had somehow managed to turn to Quidditch and Evan's firebolt-

"I honestly do not see the appeal in watching people chase after balls like dogs." Snape said.

"We're not chasing, we're flying! Flying!" Evans exclaimed.

-to the discussion of an odd magazine called the Quibbler.

"Never heard of it." Snape sniffed, despite knowing full well of the publication. Harry Potter gave a most enlightening interview with one of their reporters.

Evans laughed. "Neither did I, until I saw Luna with it."

Apparently Evans' was friends with Luna Lovegood and her father published the Quibbler. Snape filed that tidbit away. Luna Lovegood was a friend of Potters and according to Snape's source, Luna didn't have many friends.

Snape glanced outside and watched the night sky descended.

"You never answered my question you know." Evans suddenly said.

Snape took the non sequiter in stride. "Which one?"

"Do you think Harry Potter's going to take care of Voldemort and his Death Eaters?"

"You didn't ask it, you stated it." Snape evaded.

"Well I'm asking it now." Evans said tongue in cheek.

"Your being moronic, more so than I thought you to be."

"What?"

Snape sighed and wondered how he was saddled with this simpleton. "It's completely unrealistic to rely on one teenager."

"You didn't answer my question."

Snape shot Evans an even look. "What do you want me to say?"

"Just give me a yes or no answer." Evans said his voice sharp, his gaze intense. For a moment his innocent demeanor dropped. A glimpse of a leader emerged, one who expected respect and got it, before it was blink away.

You're a friend of his, Snape thought, or you're involved with him in some way. If he could somehow insinuate his position without outright declaring it, this entire train trip wouldn't be for naught.

A smooth voice interrupted the conversation. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in ten minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train and they will be taken to your rooms separately."

Snape still maintain eye contact with Evans. "No." He told him seconds later.

Evans jaw tightened.

"Potter could kill Voldemort, but he couldn't kill all the Death Eaters by himself." Snape explained. "He's going to need allies, people to watch his back. People who have skills and people who know what they're getting into."

"Meaning?" Evans no longer looked angry, more thoughtful and calculating.

"People are used to war glorification, basically you fight the bad guys and win, sure you get injuries but nothing life threatening. That's not reality. The reality is people are going to be targeting you, to maim, kill, and so on and so forth. Their sole objective will be to break you. Potter needs people who know this and will continue to fight in spite of this, on the front lines for as long as it takes." Snape finished as the train stopped.

Evans peeled Snape apart. Or he tried; Snape revealed only what he wanted, when he wanted and some teenager wasn't going to make him sweat. They stayed seated while the train emptied; still waiting for the other to give, when by a mutual unspoken agreement they broke eye contact and left the compartment.

This was the first time Evans cane was used. His left leg was the one that needed support. "Bad knee injury." Evans chuckled in his slightly high pitched voice, as he limped out of the train.

Considering possibilities as to what could have caused the injuries, Snape searched for the first year boats he had to use. Some nonsense Professor Dumbledore insisting on, something about introducing him to the school in a public display of house sorting. Why he couldn't have done it during the summer was beyond him.

"You know what? You told me nothing I didn't know." A warm tenor voice said.

Snape spun around swiftly, taking a step back as he slipped into a slight defensive stance, almost drawing his wand. He looked at Evans suspiciously.

"Easy." The same voice said. Evans voice wasn't his slightly high tone that Snape associated with him.

"Who are you?" Snape said his devoid of all emotion, he'd been had.

"Who indeed." Evans eye shone with a private mirth.

And Snape froze, watching as 'Evans' commonplace looks change dramatically.

The short, stocky build become slimmer and his height shot up another three inches, still short but not as much as before. Boots that were once worn to pieces turned into quality footwear made of black dragon scales. The fraying edges of his second hand robes repaired themselves, and the material shone to an inky black, making 'Evans' silhouette stand out sharply. The rings that decorated his fingers changed as well. Bronze became lustrous gold, the dull figure eight ring shone to vivid silver while small gems replaced the dots as the illusion dropped. The cane he carried was now sleek and a deep mahogany. A tree lacking any leaves was carved into the silver handle.

The slightly hunched posture straightened, and an air of quiet confidence slid onto the boy, like fitted dress robes. A ripple of power ruffled the air.

His face remained impassive as Snape felt his stomach sink; he suddenly knew who he had been talking to on the train.

Tanned skin lightened as 'Evans' facial features began to mold into another form. The square face melted into one with high cheek bones, and the button nose became more defined. Wavy brown hair transformed into an untamable mop of black hair. Brown eyes blinked to reveal a brilliant green. Then a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt came forth. The bulky glasses turned into ovals frames that flattered the face and a devious grin spread across one of the Wizarding World's most famous face.

It was Harry bloody Potter.


End file.
